Maurine pyle's Posts - New Foundation Fellowship2024-03-29T10:40:55Zmaurine pylehttp://nffquaker.org/profile/maurinepylehttp://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/986024324?profile=original&width=48&height=48&crop=1%3A1&xj_user_default=1http://nffquaker.org/profiles/blog/feed?user=202ky7147cquy&xn_auth=noMy View from Firbank Felltag:nffquaker.org,2012-07-16:6286598:BlogPost:154272012-07-16T17:19:45.000Zmaurine pylehttp://nffquaker.org/profile/maurinepyle
<p>I write about this problem of controversy over Christ among American Friends to encourage us who are Christian Quakers to face it head on. Let us labor with the other side in love. Recently a Friend told me that Jesus is welcome in Liberal Friends meetings, but we dare not say his name. This suppression of Christian language is the heart of the problem. Healing is the only way to solve it and to do that we need dialog.</p>
<p>I write about this problem of controversy over Christ among American Friends to encourage us who are Christian Quakers to face it head on. Let us labor with the other side in love. Recently a Friend told me that Jesus is welcome in Liberal Friends meetings, but we dare not say his name. This suppression of Christian language is the heart of the problem. Healing is the only way to solve it and to do that we need dialog.</p>My View from Firbank Fell By Maurine Pyletag:nffquaker.org,2012-07-12:6286598:BlogPost:156062012-07-12T13:37:15.000Zmaurine pylehttp://nffquaker.org/profile/maurinepyle
<p></p>
<p><b> </b> While on a private pilgrimage to northwest England several years ago, I was moved to climb Firbank Fell, the hill where the great spiritual movement of Quakerism began. The historical marker said that in 1652 one thousand people had gathered there to hear a sermon by George Fox, a young itinerant preacher. I wondered, as I looked around, why so many people had climbed the steep hill to hear him? Later I discovered that they had come to the market fair at…</p>
<p></p>
<p><b> </b> While on a private pilgrimage to northwest England several years ago, I was moved to climb Firbank Fell, the hill where the great spiritual movement of Quakerism began. The historical marker said that in 1652 one thousand people had gathered there to hear a sermon by George Fox, a young itinerant preacher. I wondered, as I looked around, why so many people had climbed the steep hill to hear him? Later I discovered that they had come to the market fair at Sedburgh, a nearby village, looking for work at the hiring fair. When they heard that Fox would be preaching on the following day at a church at Firbank Fell, they climbed the hill to hear him. Surely many of them went out of curiosity, yet among them were spiritual seekers. Ordinary people such as yeomen, shepherds, weavers and serving girls, came up the hill bearing a hunger of some kind.</p>
<p> The stone church proved too small to handle the great crowd. George Fox spoke from a huge rock outcropping, now called Fox’s Pulpit, while his listeners gathered below inside a natural amphitheater. Historical reflections from that day tell us that he preached a Gospel sermon of such power that the people were electrified. When they heard his vital message that “Christ has come to teach his people himself,” some became aware of their own spiritual gifts. On that day a portion of them was “gathered as in a net.” They experienced a change of direction, becoming part of a renewed apostolic ministry, and followers of George Fox.</p>
<p> As I stood on Fox’s Pulpit, my eyes traveled westward over the endless Yorkshire hills until I could see, in my mind’s eye, a tall white meetinghouse shining in the distance. I was seeing our yearly meeting gathering place on Quaker Lane on the Illinois prairie. Suddenly I understood that we 21<sup>st</sup> century Friends are the direct heirs of the original vision of the early Friends of England. When Fox saw “a great people to be gathered,” he was speaking about us.</p>
<p> At Firbank Fell a brave group of men and women became valiant traveling ministers, who, upon hearing the Gospel message, took off to share it in distant places in the world. We know that a powerful religious movement was born on that day, carrying those ordinary people to places they never intended to go. If we 21<sup>st</sup> century American Friends are the remnant of this great wave of Christian faith, how are we fulfilling the founding vision of George Fox? What is the meaning of our Quaker faith today?</p>
<p> In America today our sense of spiritual fellowship in Liberal meetings, the feeling of belonging to the same tribe, is diminishing. We no longer live in the same communities, and we come from diverse faith traditions. Our cultural values are no longer entwined at the roots, as were those of our founders. As a body we share less genetic and cultural memory of what it means to be Quakers. Different viewpoints often prevent us from looking in the same direction to find a point of convergence. We hold beliefs ranging from Buddhism to non-theism to Christianity, or we may simply be ethical humanists. Just imagine a mixture of wild seeds cast into a single plot of land, producing a profusion of color. A wide variety of plants all blooming together symbolize our present condition in the Religious Society of Friends. Discerning which is a wildflower and which is a weed is not easy. We are living a great experiment of religious diversity.</p>
<p> What do we have in common now? Unprogrammed Friends often share a mystical way of knowing and a deep love of silence. They uphold the testimonies of simplicity, peace, equality, integrity and community by honoring them with their lives. These Quaker values attracted many seekers to Quaker meetings, keeping them connected to the traditions of Quakerism. Yet it is also true that 21<sup>st</sup> century Quaker meetings have become more like independent churches without a strong link between them. Some do not have any direct contact with neighboring meetings, resulting in isolation and stagnation. A small percentage of the members may participate in wider Quaker groups, leaving the majority at home without any direct connection.</p>
<p> As I have traveled across the United States, I have discovered discontent and troubled silence in many meetings. Spiritual hunger has led people to join Friends meetings seeking after spiritual depth. Sometimes that hunger leads them away again when they do not find it. Newcomers may find that we cannot explain our core beliefs or that we tend to suppress discussion of our religious principles for fear of arousing conflict. People who have a limited understanding of basic Quaker traditions have replaced the solid Quaker elders whom I encountered when I first attended a Quaker meeting. Who is helping to shape the contours of our life as Friends today?</p>
<p> I hear fewer people any longer referring to the founding vision of Quakers and the core Christian beliefs upon which our life is grounded. Quakers of old were not intolerant of differing points of view, but they had their own place to stand. Jesus’ message was interpreted by Friends to be universal and inclusive based on the message “Love one another.” <i> </i>Early Friends were a community of people who shared the same set of Christian beliefs and practices. These communal values have been largely lost in our era. Now we have a diverse set of patterns. What are we teaching our children about our faith?</p>
<p> Today the chief characteristic of many liberal meetings is intellectual independence. For some newcomers, a Quaker meeting may appear to be a place to meet people who share their particular political viewpoint. In recent years the search for a common faith practice has often been replaced by an unspoken doctrine of individualism. Rather than being willing to labor to find common ground, differences often suppressed in order to keep an uneasy peace. When an important issue arises, the hidden differences are often revealed resulting in open conflict.</p>
<p> One example of a commonly suppressed conflict, which I have witnessed in many meetings, is between wounded people who have left fundamentalist Christian churches and Liberal Christian Friends. The former Christians are sometimes troubled by hearing Christ-centered messages offered in the meeting for worship, and their temperamental reactions cause the Christians to be silent. When there is no open discussion of these theological differences, conflicts become an underground fire, quietly burning until triggered by an event or person.</p>
<p> When these eruptions occur within a monthly meeting, it is time to call for a midwife. The spiritual midwife is someone invited into the community who can serve as a guide, coach or healer. The role of the midwife is to initiate the laboring process and then to leave the remaining work to be completed by the community. Laboring is an old Quaker term, which has fallen into disuse. In the spiritual sense, laboring refers to the willingness to work face-to-face to solve a problem or dispute with the understanding that God will find an opening. This process is only one part persuasion; it is equally listening to one another’s differences and allowing the Spirit to open a new direction until the Truth emerges.</p>
<p> As Friends we are being called to seek “the third way.” I believe now is the time to start by inviting the midwives to enter into labor with us. We are called to find another pathway than one of avoidance or suppression. Are we willing to be healed?</p>
<p> </p>The Women Under the Crosstag:nffquaker.org,2012-02-24:6286598:BlogPost:145092012-02-24T15:30:00.000Zmaurine pylehttp://nffquaker.org/profile/maurinepyle
<p><span id="internal-source-marker_0.17639317402348176" style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The Women Under the Cross</span> …<br></br> <br></br></p>
<p><span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" id="internal-source-marker_0.17639317402348176">The Women Under the Cross</span> <br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">A great crowd of people followed him, including women who beat their breasts and lamented over him. Jesus turned to them and said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me. Weep for yourselves and for your children...”</span><br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> St. Luke 23:27</span><br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">As a Catholic child I made the stations of the cross in a darkened, incense-scented church pausing at each picture of the passion to pray for Jesus. His suffering, pain and death were imprinted on my child heart. There were others also pictured whose grieving faces will never leave my memory…the women.</span><br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Among them were his mother Mary and Mary Magdalene, his disciple. The two women closest to him during his lifetime. At the time of his death they drew near to share his pain.</span><br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">As a mother, I know that my deepest pain is witnessing my child’s suffering – whatever that might be. Yet, Jesus’ mother Mary stood at a distance to witness her son’s brutally slow death. All through the day he was dying, pulling up against the nails of the cross to catch a suffocating breath. How could she bear witness?</span><br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">There upon the cross hangs my child. Who could have foretold such agony for a mother? To see her baby suffering such a painfully slow death. I cradled him in my arms, swaddled him, taught him. Joseph and I secreted him out of the land of Herod during the holocaust of innocent children. We, his parents, were his basket of reeds.</span><br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">How my heart ached when he was lost at age twelve on a trip to Jerusalem. I searched the caravan frantically for him, asking each person, “Have you seen Jesus? Have you seen my boy?” After three days of desperately searching, we found him in the temple speaking with the rabbis. We asked, “Son, why have you done this to us?” He replied that he was doing his Father’s business, and we should not be troubled about him. It was then that I first knew that he belonged not only to me, but to God.</span><br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Later when he became a man, I began to fear for his sanity. For long periods he would go into the desert alone, in total fasting and prayer. His brothers and I went searching for him when we heard of his madness. He claimed to be a prophet! As we approached the small house where he was visiting, we saw it was filled with people and a great crowd surrounded it. I sent word to him that his mother and brothers were outside waiting. He answered, “Who is my mother and who are my brothers? Whosoever does the will of the Father is brother and sister and mother to me.”</span><br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My child hangs upon a cross. I stand beside him in his hour of pain. Once they called him the son of Mary. Now he is called the son of man.</span><br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Standing nearby is Mary Magdalene, who is called a whore, who has been rejected throughout the ages, but who is actually a disciple of the Christ. Her many sins were forgiven because of her great love for him. Magdeline remained with Jesus while most of the other disciples ran to hide in their fear. She witnessed her beloved master writhing upon a cross. She comforted him by her faithfulness.</span><br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I have followed you from Galilee, Master. In this land of men I have been a slave. Yet you recognized me as a person and raised me up from the dust. You freed me. My sins you did not overlook…you counted every one of them. You healed me and forgave me…you loved me. No threats can separate me from you in this hour. I am without fear because you are near. Through your tender mercy, I learned of God’s faithful love. Blessed are your words which fell upon my wounded heart. Blessed is the womb that bore you. You are the Christ, the messenger, the son of God….</span><br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">We women do nor turn our faces away from suffering. Life comes into the world by our bodies, by our willingness to bear the pain for a worthy cause. Life leaves the earth with the sound of our weeping. We are weeping for our children, as Jesus knew we would. We are weeping for ourselves.</span><br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The strong women under the cross are symbols of the powerful and loving God. If a man died on the cross and saved the world by his weakness, the women beneath him bore witness in their loving strength. Gathered here beneath the cross, we weep God’s tears for his people.</span><br/> <br/> <br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Maurine Pyle (December 1983)</span><br/> <span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Times New Roman; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">After receiving a vision of the cross</span><br/> <br/></p>